How to Carry On
by TheHeartOfTheDetective
Summary: Six months after the battle at the White Chapel Simon Snow is doing his best to heal with Baz and Penelope by his side; however his method of healing causes his mind to burn with questions that have gone unanswered for too long. Who are Simon's parents, that is if he even has any? If Baz is a vampire, is he immortal? Will Penelope stay in England? Will Agatha stay in America?
1. I Baz

**Baz**

I've told him it's okay to not be okay.

I've told him this a thousand times since the White Chapel, but Simon Snow is most stubborn prick I've ever known. And I love him. I, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, am hopelessly in love with Simon Snow.

He's never told me that he loves me, but I doubt he has any other choice. Crowley, who else could love him with that fucking tail of his? Bunce does, but she doesn't count. That's a different kind of love. My love is a flame that never goes out. A huge bright flame that at any moment in time could be my demise because I am flammable, oh so flammable. Simon Snow could turn me to ashes.

He's in my arms now. I swear, he feels like fire, well more than I do anyways. Since he became a Normal, I swear his temperature's gone up. Maybe it's just my imagination, or maybe it's because I'm not used to touching him. After all, there were only a few days before the White Chapel when I was able to touch him like this.

We don't talk much, Snow and I. Not since the White Chapel. I feel bad for him, and he knows and hates that I do. But we do touch. He lays in my arms and lets me kiss that mole on his neck. And I like holding his devil tail in my hands, sometimes I even kiss its arrow tip. The kissing is my favourite, though I think that Snow likes the touching the most. He takes my hand and lays his head against my bare shoulder.

At night, I sneak into his and Bunce's flat and meet him in his room. We sleep in his bed, and I think Bunce knows, but she never says anything. We never do anything besides sleep and kiss, which doesn't bother her as long as it's away from her. She hates when we show affection for eachother, but I know she's happy for us - for Simon, I mean. We're only half friends, Bunce and I.

"Baz?" Snow's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, though it's quiet and soft.

I look down at him, though he isn't looking at me. He's looking at his hand, which is in mine. My thumb rubs circles into his palm.

"Hmm?" I hum.

He takes a moment before continuing, and I almost think he isn't going to say anything. "I want to go back to your estate in Hampshire."

It takes me by surprise, of course it does. It's been six months months since our encounter with the humdrum at my family's estate. Why does he want to go back _now_?

"Simon-" I call him by his first name. I do that when I'm being soft with him, when I want something for him. When I'm truly trying to help him. "- I know you must feel like you have to, but you don't."

"No," he says, shaking his head and looking up at me, "I have to. I know I do. Professor Bunce suggested it to me a few months back and I didn't think I could." He pauses and looks down at his hands again. "But I was talking to my psychologist and she said that she thought it would be a good idea when I was ready." He looks up at me again. "Baz, I'm ready."

My head cocks slightly. "Are you sure?" He nods. "In the morning, we can go." I kiss his mole, and he leans into my lips. I can smell his blood, and the only thing that keeps me from sinking my fangs (which have come out now) into his skin is my love for him. Were that not a thing I would gladly make him my next meal.

When I pull away, he kisses me, one of his hands tangling in my hair, which would piss me off if it were earlier and my hair was properly done. But now, at 12:37 am, it just fuels the fire that is my love for him. His lips are soft and taste like the Earl Grey he had been sipping in bed. I wonder what I taste like to him.


	2. II Simon

**Simon**

Baz tastes like those fancy mint chocolates that you find on your pillow at fancy hotels. He's been carrying those mints around in his pocket since his family moved. He's a sucker for mint and chocolate. Putting them together is like magic to him.

I love the touch of him, but, Aliester Crowley, do I love the taste of him. Kissing Baz is a fucking dream, a dream that I never imagined myself being in. All the years that I've known him, I've thought he was plotting my demise, finding a way to kill me, and he even did attempt sometimes, but what he's actually been doing for seven years is plotting a way to kiss me and kiss me and kiss me until my lips are numb.

I pull away from him and lay my head on his bare, stone cold chest, one of my fingers trailing down his abdomen. He closes his eyes. He loves it when I do that.

I still don't know if I'm gay, and my psychologist says I shouldn't be worried about whether I am or not at this point in time (apparently losing my magic and killing my mentor should, but I know that I do love Baz. Even if I don't say it out loud, and even if I only realized it recently. I spent seven years being absolutely obsessed with him. I wonder when that obsession turned from fear to love?

I love him, but there are still things that I hate about him. I made a list.

 **The way he sneers at Penny and I**

I know that now it's more of a joking kind of sneer, a comical reflection on our previous relationship, but now that I have him and he's mine and we're together, I don't want to even think of how things used to be. I know we'll never be the lovey dovey couple who were Watford sweethearts, but I'd like to at least pretend that we were.

 **2\. The way he calls me 'Normal'**

Again, I know it's a joke to him, but I don't think he sees how it hurts me. He doesn't understand how hard it is to be a Normal, well, a Normal with a stupid fucking tail and wings.

 **3\. The way he feels sorry for me**

He tells me that he doesn't, that it's not his place to feel sorry for me and that only I can feel sorry for myself but that bastard's been lying to me since I first met him. I bloody well know when he's lying. Though he can keep a straight face and his demeanour doesn't change, there are other signs that only I can see. When he lies to me, his breathing quickens (Shocking. Vampires have to breathe?), and he tries to hide that by holding his breath. His cheeks, after a moment, gain the slightest flush that anyone would think was just a trick of the light, but I know the truth.

He feels sorry for me.

 **4\. He's afraid to use his magic in front of me**

Really, this should be part of #3, but that paragraph was getting too long.

Baz has been using less magic since the White Chapel. He doesn't do any little spell that would be a 'waste of magic.' He doesn't use magic on my tail or wings, Penny is the one that makes them invisible. Baz says he's too lazy, but I know he just feels bad that he has his magic and I'm the only mage in history to lose his.

And when Baz does use his magic in front of me, he gives me this look beforehand that looks like it's saying "Tell me if this is too much for you." It's annoying. If anything, I wish he would use magic as much as he could. I miss it. I miss seeing it, feeling it. If I can't cast a spell again (or screw up a spell again, I should say), then I at least want Baz to. And as someone who lost his magic, I should be able to tell you that it isn't a bad thing to take advantage of your power. Why, if I still had my magic, I'd use it to take Baz and I to the stars again.

That night that Baz and I took to the stars, well I think that's the night that I realized that my obsession could be more than fear. At one point, as I was pressing my hands against him, pushing my magic into him, I opened my eyes and he looked into mine. His pupils dilated, and the only times I've ever seen someone look at me that way was back when Agatha loved me. Back when I loved her.

Baz has these gorgeous blue eyes that I swear are like two oceans. I could get lost in those eyes. And that night, though I thought his dilating eyes were caused by his drunken state that my magic put him in, a flip switched inside me. Suddenly, I wanted to hold his hand. Then, I was pulling back, shaking my head, thinking that perhaps _I_ was the drunk one there.

I never told him. Maybe I will someday.

Anyway, I know he's worried about me, but I know I can do this. I _need_ to do this. Professor Bunce said that I could take this opportunity to help me carry on.

And that's what I need to do.


	3. III Simon

In the morning I wake up alone, but I can smell bacon and know that Baz is cooking. I get out of bed, throwing on a random shirt from my wardrobe and opening my door. Penny is coming down the hall as I step out. She's rubbing her eyes underneath her purple cat-eye glasses and yawning. It looks like she just woke up too.

When she sees me, she furrows her brows. "You're not cooking?"

I shake my head. "Must be Baz."

She rolls her eyes and walks past me. "He might as well just move in, Simon."

I follow her to the kitchen, where she leans against the doorway and folds her arms across her chest. "Is there ever a time when you're not here?" she asks him.

"Where else would I be?" He doesn't turn around, but I know he's smirking.

"Oh, I don't know. Fiona's flat?"

"But then I couldn't haunt _your_ flat."

Penny ignores him. "At least you cook. What're you making?"

"Bacon and omelettes," he says, flipping an egg in the air. It landed perfectly back on the pan. "Quiet this morning, Snow?"

"Tired," I say, walking over to him, leaning against the counter next to the cooker and watching him.

"You're always tired," he says, looking over at me. "When are we leaving?"

"As soon as possible."

"Wait," Penny says, "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it," I tell her. Baz says nothing.

"Simon." I turn to look at her and immediately her eyes are digging into mine, spelling me into telling her with no magic required.

I sigh. "The Pitch's Estate."

Her eyes widen. "What? Why?" She looks over at Baz. "Are you making him?"

"You think I would?" He raises a brow. "Bunce, I don't want him to go any less than you do. In fact, I'm positive that I don't want him to go more than you don't want him to."

She rolls her eyes and looks back to me. "Simon, why?"

I shrug. "I have to do it sometime, Penny."

"No, you don't Simon."

"Penelope," I snap, "you don't know what we went through back at the estate. You don't realize how horrible it was for us."

"You're right," she stepped forward, pushing her glasses up her nose, "I don't know, but Simon, you can do this anytime. Why now? So soon after-"

"Six months. I think I'm fine." I'm not.

"Simon, you're not fine. Right Baz?"

Baz holds up a hand. "Woah, don't bring me into this Bunce."

"Simon already did," she said, rolling her eyes. She looks back to me, but this time she doesn't say anything. Her eyes search mine for answers, but I look away. She sighs. "At least let me come with you. For moral support, if anything."

I shake my head. "No, Penelope. This is something we have to do alone. Just me and Baz." I take his hand and he squeezes it.

She turns her eyes away. "Tell me when breakfast's ready." She walks away, back to her bedroom I presume.

I look to Baz and he wraps his arm around me.


End file.
